Dust in the Wind
by inukshuk
Summary: Arthur and Merlin join forces to rid the kingdom of an infestation that may turn out to be harder than it looks. A/M, some humour ...
1. Chapter 1 The First Mark

TITLE: Dust in the Wind

AUTHOR: Inukshuk

SPOILERS: None

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food. Suggestions, comments constructive criticism always welcome.

Chapter 1 – The First Mark

Merlin rushed to finish the last two stitches and accidentally jabbed himself. His complaint was silenced as he stuck the finger in his mouth and tasted blood.

Arthur stood by his bed, naked to the waist. Arthur held out his arms at the side, readying himself. His spine was straight and the vertebrae protruded in even undulations beneath the skin. He waited without satisfaction and glanced back over his shoulder at Merlin.

"Am I going to wait all day?"

"No. Be right there." Merlin shook his hand, shaking his hand with vigour to take the sting off the needle prick. In a quick bite, he chewed off the end of the thread. Turning the garment right side out, he hurried over. Arthur's body was symmetric and in the morning light, sun shone on the flesh giving it a warm, golden glow.

It was then that Merlin noticed the mark. A scab had appeared on Arthur's shoulder – about the circumference of a pea. It was fresh; newly formed – with little blood, but deep and surrounded by redness. He paused to inspect it.

"Merlin?" Arthur emphasised his outstretched arms. "You are not measuring me for a crucifix, are you?"

"No. No." Merlin came closer still, fascinated and reached up, not touching him but studying the lesion carefully. "Did you get an arrow in the shoulder?"

"No."

"A bad hit during practice, then? Maybe a sword gone astray?"

"No. Why?"

"You have a wound here. Does it hurt?"

"I don't know." Arthur gripped his shoulder with his opposite hand and tried to look. As he contorted, the delineation of his muscles flexed and flowed. "Where?"

"Right here." Merlin said. "Hold still. There. Does that – ?"

"Ouch!"

"Hmm." Merlin decided. "I guess it does."

"What does it look like?" Arthur resumed his attempts to peer backwards. His eyes fell tight into corners and he drew down his chin while trying to pull his shoulder up.

"It looks sore."

"I meant …" Arthur clarified without humour, "How big is it?"

"About this big." Merlin measured the tip of his little finger with his thumb to approximate the size. Leaving Arthur to attempt to move eyes to the back of his head, he started a search about the room. From the floor, he picked up a cotton night shirt and inspected it. There was a small stain – not blood – but rose-stained fluid that approximated where the wound was on Arthur's back.

"Here." He held it out for Arthur. "Did you wear this last night?"

"Yes." Arthur took the shirt and gave it his own thorough examination. "I don't recall waking up." It was a confession that started a frown. Then the pair moved to his bed and tore back the sheets. The rose-stain appeared a little ways below his pillow and again matching where his shoulder would have rested during the night.

"Do you have mice?" Merlin started to widen the search.

"I had better not have, Merlin. It's you who cleans my room."

"Hmm." He ignored the comment and descended into his own thoughts. What would leave such a mark? He put his hands to his hips and scanned the room looking for the presence of something unusual or the absence of something normally there. Nothing struck him. He pulled away the bedside table to see behind. Stooping, he removed a plate and a slice of half-eaten bread.

"Honestly." Merlin said. "D'you live in a barn?"

"No." The blond bangs hid the deepening furrow in his brow. "What else is back there?"

Merlin dove again and removed a fork and, then reaching under the bed to the full of his body length, used his fingers to coax out a small book.

"I was looking for that." Arthur mused, flipping through the pages in recognition.

"There's nothing else down here." Merlin said to air. Arthur had moved to the armoire and had both doors open. He was of a mind to discover the cause of the welt. He flung clothing back in a way haphazard enough that had Merlin trying to catch the items and maintain some order.

"Nothing here." Arthur – still undressed – put his hips to his waist and studied the room for other places to look. The flesh was lean, powerful and – most alarmingly – still naked. Merlin watched his friend's chest expand and contract with a sudden sigh.

Naked.

The word roused an idea deep in Merlin's brain. There was something … Merlin thought. Not dressed. They had become distracted from the morning's hurry. Then it hit him. Not ready!

"Oh! Arthur – " Merlin bolted forward for the tunic. "You must get to court." He began rushing the clothing onto the prince, holding out first one armhole and then the other. "Your father is going to have you in the stocks if you are late."


	2. Chapter 2 Morgana's Pet

TITLE: Dust in the Wind

AUTHOR: Inukshuk

SPOILERS: None

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food. Suggestions, comments constructive criticism always welcome.

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Chapter 2 – Morgana's Pet

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Morgana and Gwen stood in the middle of their room surveying the area for clues. Anything that might be amiss could be a sign.

Five days ago, Morgana had purchased a small creature – little enough to put in the palm of her hand – from an ancient vendor in the market place. She had felt sorry for him – toothless and grimy – and felt his eyes had told a story of hardship that she knew she could ease. She paid him more than he asked for, then bought a cage as well.

In her room, she kept the creature secure and spent hours studying the gossamer wings, the crystal bright eyes, and the almost human like structure. It had a longish body and four limbs that seemed to work with surprising dexterity. From the bits of thread and scraps of fabric and hay, the creature had constructed an intricate domed shelter. It had a refined sense of neatness and, when all order had been achieved, it let out a comforting hum that Morgana adored. She had even forced disarray just to hear that exotic, restful sound.

Gwen had brought it scraps of lettuce and apple from the kitchen but it did not eat. Morgana and Gwen had rotated through almost all the food groups – taking bits from meals morning, noon and night. Finally, Morgana pushed a small piece of stewed beef through the narrow bars of the cage and watched the creature pounce upon the meat. It devoured the food and then licked its lips and stared up at her with a particular glower that made her think more meat was in order.

"Isn't it precious?" She said to Gwen, who came in close to admire the creature. "Such beautiful wings. And so fragile and tiny. Look at how it has built its own little shelter."

"Did you give it a name yet?"

"Jewel." She said. "I think it is a girl. Do you like it?"

"That's a perfect name. Rare and beautiful." The two women agreed. "Look at how the wings beat and glow now that she's fed." Almost as reward, the creature let out another hum. They looked at each other – satisfied that they could please it so and be rewarded with music.

After a few days, the two noticed that the area around the cage had taken on a vague sparking that increased in intensity as they days wore on. The light scintillated and had the same tones of green and blue and pink as the creature's wings.

"Oh. It's just a little dust." Gwen had reported when Morgana had asked. "I cleaned it up with a damp rag. It's all right now. I'll make sure I check from now on."

Then, the next morning, Morgana awoke and the small door was open and the cage was empty.

"Gwen!" She said. "Jewel has escaped her cage. She must be around her somewhere. We need to look for it before she gets hurt or …"

"Stepped on?" Gwen added and suddenly the two women looked down at their feet, afraid they had already done the damage. After a thorough inspection of the room – from stem to stern and back again – they could find no Jewel.

"I'm afraid …" Gwen spoke softly, knowing how attached her friend had become. She needed to be gentle but frank, "I'm afraid she might be gone, Morgana."

"Oh, no." Morgana said so softly and blinked away tears. "She was such a beautiful creature. She can't be gone. Let's keep looking. It can't have gone far. And we'll put out some more meat in case she gets hungry. Let's set up the cage on the floor like this … I do hope she's alright and comes back safely. The castle has so many dangers for such a delicate creature."

"We'll keep looking, then, shall we?" Gwen could not bear to see Morgana so sad. "Let's pull out the furniture. Carefully so we don't harm it in case she's hiding … "


	3. Chapter 3 More Marks

TITLE: Dust in the Wind

AUTHOR: Inukshuk

SPOILERS: None

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food. Suggestions, comments constructive criticism always welcome.

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Chapter 3 – The Second Mark

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Apart from a soreness that was worst right after Merlin jabbed him in the shoulder, Arthur did not think at all or again about his wound. It was small, beneath notice and – because of its location – out of sight and out of memory.

The next morning he and Merlin went through their regular routine as they always did.

Merlin arrived with clean clothes and breakfast; both of which he set out to Arthur's specific instructions. Arthur lounged in his bed as long as possible, watching his servant pick up dirty laundry and generally tidy up. After sufficient time had past and Merlin had more than once remarked that the breakfast would soon be cold, did Arthur get out of bed.

"Have you been to the armoury yet? I want to get in some practice before I drill the knights."

"Yes. Everything is set out … well … most of it. At least one piece is … you see. I rather dropped …"

"Merlin." Arthur said. "You did not break my breastplate."

"No." Merlin answered brightly, "No. I did not."

Arthur let the answer settle for a moment. "Alright then. What *did* you break?"

"Sleeve of your chainmail"

"Sleeve of my chainmail."

"Yes."

"Chainmail is metal, Merlin. How on earth to you break chainmail?"

"Well. It took a bit of doing. You see … I started to ..."

"Never mind. I don't want to know. Here," he pushed forward a half empty plate, "I'm finished with that. Get me my tunic." And with that, he pealed off his undershirt and tossed it aside.

Merlin retrieved a freshly laundered tunic. He looked at Arthur's back and halted.

"Oh. Arthur." It was a gasp. He turned and saw the seriousness in Merlin's face.

"What?"

"Your back."

"What?" He frowned, "What about my back?"

Merlin crossed the floor and touched the skin with the gentlest touch. Arthur winced.

"Ow!"

"There are bites all over …" Merlin began touching and counting off … "Five. Six. Seven."

Arthur bent down and retrieved his nightshirt. Silently, he held up a section for Merlin. It was the same staining as from the previous day.

"Where?" Arthur repeated. "Where on my back?"

"There. And there. All along here as well. Ohh … your back is a mess …"

"Aai! Not so hard."

"That was hardly a touch, Arthur." The elfin expression looked innocent enough. "Really. A couple of them look quite angry. It's all red. Looks swollen. Are they itch? You didn't scratch, did you?"

"What is biting me?"

"Dunno." Merlin said. "We could have another look round."

"Yes." Arthur said. "Only this time, we do a proper job of it." This was a rough translation for the direction to tear the room apart. Here Arthur had had plenty of practice. One of the central duties he received from his father was property search and location of missing people and things. He brought a certain enthusiasm to this job that was often lacking in others.

Dedicated to the task, they proceeded to upturn ever piece of furniture. They emptied every drawer. They pulled off every piece of bedding. They found another two pieces of cutlery, a favourite belt buckle, three coins, a small map and dust. This dust came in three categories – classified by Merlin who had a gift for observation - the bundled rolling tumbleweed kind of dust that accumulates under furniture; the standard household kind that was a result of servants not taking the time on detailed cleaning and a third – as fine as dander but opalescent –shiny in a transient oil slick way.

"Never seen this before." Merlin said. "Have you?"

"No. But it's just a bit of dust. Dust doesn't bite." He paused. "Does it?"

"Likely not." Merlin agreed, then added his own pause. "Naw. It's just dust."


End file.
